Tuesday, December 02, 2008
Gellin' Like a Felon
I'm sitting here at my desk at work.
I'm supposed to be working on things for overtime, but my brain is so far gone that I can't keep track of anything. Then again, it's been like that all day.
Maybe it's been the little chocolatey sugar pills I've been popping all day?
Anywho, I wanted to check in and comment about something that I should probably be too embarassed to post.
Since that's never stopped me before, I don't see why it should stop me now.
So I was sitting here at my desk, minding my own business, and, for whatever reason, I put my curled up fist-hands on my hips (yes, I put my hands on my hips at work, while sitting. Can we move on?), and, do you know what I discovered?
Not just a little bit of squish and jiggle, mind you. But a lot more squish and jiggle than I feel comfortable with.
I keep pushing on my hips, now, because it's a familiar feeling, and I'm trying to figure it out so I can describe it to you.
Yes, I know. I'm fat.
Not a newsflash.
But it's not that long ago when I had a fairly decent amount of muscle, too.
If you'd felt my thighs when I worked for the agency before this one, you'd have understood.
I had very strong thighs.
Now? Not so much.
I have to say that I will be very thankful when I get to a place where I no longer have stress to eat.
I know, I know. It's more than that. It's way more than that.
But that's definitely a start.
And maybe then I'd spend less time sabotaging myself and then getting frustrated that I'm not losing weight.
1. I feel like the whole world is holding it's breath. But it might just be me.
2. It's 20 minutes to 5 and my coworker is eating again.